


The Woods

by youregonnabefine



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Choking, Dom/sub, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fingering, Flirting, Humiliation, Magic, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Sorceresses, Teasing, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2018-11-19 18:18:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youregonnabefine/pseuds/youregonnabefine
Summary: See ends of chapters for their individual Trigger Warnings.Bryn, a femme fatale sorceress who is used independence and city living finds herself stranded in the woods with only her wits and the Witcher she accidentally tried to con.





	1. Escape

_Shit shit shit…_ The words pounded through Bryn’s head with each footstep, her body coursing with adrenaline as she dashed towards the tree line. In recounting her mistakes she admitted that she shouldn’t have stranded herself in such a remote village in the first place, but her second mistake was not accounting for that guard’s bulk while measuring out the sleeping potion. Her third mistake was running past that dog kettle on her way towards the gates, now the whole village was awake and charging after her.

At least these woods looked dark and dense enough to hide her easily. She could spend the night in some tree or burrow, and then return to the gates in the morning and persuade some sucker to give her a ride out of town. Bryn checked over her shoulder one last time before entering the woods. She counted dozens of torches. She’d have to be clever tomorrow, at this point the whole village probably wanted her dead. That was always the problem with small towns, wasn’t it? Word spreads, and before you know it you might as well have seduced _every_ woman’s husband and promptly stolen _every_ child’s special birthday gold that had been invested in since the child’s birth. 

The gold jingled in Bryn’s pouch, music to her pointed ears, and she smiled. It would make for a good replacement potion for the one she’d wasted on that guard.

A strike of fear hit Bryn in the gut. Something was wrong -- what had tipped her off? A smell? A sound? She stopped cold, leaning against a tree, and observed her shadowed environment. As she realized what had concerned her she was immediately flooded her with fear. The voices, the torches, the angry marching of villagers on a mission... it had all completely vanished. Why hadn’t they followed her into the woods? A branch cracked behind her somewhere, and seconds later a guttural call echoed out across the forest. Bryn’s blood ran cold. _Haunted woods. Of course, just my luck._

She slowed her breathing. _It’s okay, it could be worse. It could be a lot worse. Just stay to the edges of the woods and keep heading North, there was a road out that way that had a few stables on it. You can find safety there._

Bryn straightened up, more confident and resolute now that she had a plan. The creature roared again from the depths of the woods, but she did her best to ignore it. Instead she took another step forward. _North, head north…_ Bryn looked all around her. _North… Shit_

 

Three hours later (or what Bryn could only assume was three hours later), Bryn had lost all understanding of her surroundings. She could no longer hear that horrible creature, but she could also no longer keep her eyes open or travel more than a few paces without stumbling. She was exhausted and completely lost. Water or some kind of food might have provided her with some additional energy, but as she scrutinized the plants and forest-life she realized had no idea what was safe to eat and what might do her harm.

Desperate, Bryn sank to her knees. Maybe she would be safe to sleep right here… She let her eyes close and her breathing still. In the new silence, her ears picked up a faint crackling far to her left. Was she delusional or did it sound like sparks from a fire? She pulled herself once more to her feet. She would take her chances.


	2. Jackpot

From behind a thick elm tree, Bryn observed what appeared to be a small campsite. A horse slept untethered by a tree, a small fire slowly burnt itself to coals surrounded by small pots, and a large white-haired man slept next to it, his head resting on his satchel. She couldn't see the man too well but assumed him to be an older gentleman, probably exhausted from a full day of travel.

Bryn approached the horse first. From one of the pouches attached to its saddle she retrieved some bread rolls and a flask of wine. _Jackpot_. Folding her legs across her lap, she sat herself down by the fire, across from the sleeping man. She began to consume her bounty in measured amounts, reveling in the relaxation she could finally afford herself.

She wasn’t aware of the exact point that the man had woken up, but it was around the last sip of wine that she noticed him watching her with unnerving scrutiny. She took her time to swallow the gulp of wine, her reaction practically muscle memory at this point. With his golden eyes following her every movement she moved closer to him, allowing her robe to slip off her shoulders in the process. As she approached, the man sat up straighter and Bryn took one of his large calloused hands in hers and began to massage it gently. She purposefully cast her eyes to the side and in her smallest voice pleaded with him to be kind to her. "I didn't want to disturb you, sir. I'm so sorry. Please I - " She allowed her voice to crack as tears formed in her eyes. "My husband - he's good to me, he's a good man, really - but he has these  _rages_ and..." Her hands stilled and trembled against his, "I'm not safe, I had to run, I saw your camp and I was so exhausted -- Please, you can turn me in to the guard in the morning, just let me have this one night of peace. I - I'll do anything you ask." Bryn flicked her large brown eyes up to the old man. She was quite the sight in her current state, chest heaving, shoulders bare, eyes watery and cheeks flushed with a few tear streaks. She looked absolutely helpless. Any decent man (or any man who wanted to prove himself decent for other, more physical, gains) would fall prey to this routine. 

As the man remained still, seeming to contemplate her proposal, Bryn sweetened the deal with a soft kiss to his hand. The man withdrew his hand, but left it to rest against Bryn's exposed thigh, large and tough against her pale soft skin. The man seemed to stare right through her as he smoothed his thumb up and down her thigh. For a moment she was worried - something about his stare, his face, was unnerving, but in the dim light of the coals it was hard to tell just what. She hoped he'd just make his move soon enough so she could get this over with and get some sleep before dawn. 

Finally the man withdrew his hand. Bryn reached for the hood of her robe, ready to slip out of the garment, but the man simply turned away and returned to his resting place. "You can stay the night. We'll talk in the morning."

His voice was deep and gravelly, it gave Bryn shivers. Or maybe that was the fault of her exposed shoulders. Bryn tucked herself back into her robe and made her way back to the other side of the fire. Men were always easy marks, and this one had been particularly simple. Now she'd get even more sleep than she'd planned on. 

She awoke minutes before the birds began to chirp - as she did every morning - and quickly checked to make sure the man was still asleep. He looked peaceful, and she watched his chest rise and fall in slumbered rhythm. In the daylight she could recognize that he was not nearly as old as she’d assumed the night before. The white hair must be a factor of some other force - his strong jaw and well maintained form suggested the build of a strong, capable man. His horse stood nearby eating a dewey breakfast, and Bryn made quick work of saddling it with all the man’s food as well as his maps. She looked back at the man one last time, to remember how she left him - alone with just his swords and some pots and pans. With the first light of morning approaching fast, she drew out his compass and rode, finally, to the North.


	3. The Morning

With the wind combing through her hair, Bryn felt elated. She had pulled more valuable cons in the past, but always in the city and always for small, pocketable objects like gems or potions. This time she’d gotten away with a horse! An entire horse, food for days, and maps to take her wherever she wanted to go. And now, perched tall atop a galloping horse, she was practically unstoppable.

The trees were beginning to thin out when she finally let herself relax just enough so that seconds later, when the horse bucked to a sudden stop, she was sent flying half-off the saddle. Before she could re-seat herself the horse stomped its hooves, turned back the way they’d come, and charged off towards the camp with Bryn clinging to its side for dear life. Bryn yanked the reins to no avail, panic fizzing in her veins.

The man stood firm in the centre of his camp, freshly washed and with his leftover belongings packed and ready to go. Bryn’s cheeks burned and as the horse slowed she dropped herself off the side and onto her feet. The horse trotted on and stopped beside the man, who grabbed its reigns and smiled smugly at her. Bryn stared him down with absolute resentment. So much for an easy mark.

"Good Morning." The man smiled, teasing. His golden eyes in this light looked much different. They looked like... _cat eyes. The white hair, the swords - I conned a Witcher._

Bryn swallowed, her mouth full of regret, her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment. 

"I don't think I caught your name." The man continued. Bryn opened her mouth, but before she could utter a sound the man cast a familiar sign in the air. "Your  _real_ name, if you would be so kind."

Bryn tried to resist but he was much stronger than her. The man smirked at her, knowing. Finally, she conceded. "Bryn. Just Bryn."

The man nodded. 

"And who are you, Witcher?" Bryn countered.

The man turned his back and began to re-pack his horse. "Well _Bryn_ , you seem to have found yourself in the presence of Geralt of Rivia."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Bryn scoffed.

Geralt took the insult in stride, fixing up his horse's reins before striding towards her. He didn't stop until Bryn was forced to stumble backwards a few steps just to accommodate his pace. Now with his bulk completely absorbing her personal space he paused once more to inspect her. She felt naked under his gaze, his eyes raking over every inch of her. Bryn steeled her nerves and forced herself to remain still under his scrutiny, instead of pulling her robes tightly around her for cover the way she wanted to. 

Geralt stopped his inspection at her lips. "Bryn..." he growled before flicking his eyes up to meet hers, "you owe me breakfast."

Geralt stepped again closer to Bryn, causing her to stumble backwards once more, this time directly into a thick trunk of an elm. Geralt approached closer still, but this time she had no where to go. Her eyes darted left and right, but too soon Geralt’s body was pressing up against hers and she was trapped. Bryn trembled and ducked her head. She was short for a half-elf, and Geralt towered over her seemingly as large as the tree behind her.

“Hmm…” Geralt mused as he hooked a finger under Bryn’s chin. “You were so willing last night, what changed, little one?”

Bryn cast her glance to the side, refusing to look Geralt in the eye even as he held her chin upwards. She’d never been so defenseless, he was more powerful than her in every way and she had nothing to bargain with.

Geralt continued. “Is it because you know there’s nothing you can get from me now? Nothing I will give you for something as easy as a quick fuck?”

Geralt ducked his head in closer to Bryn’s until his breath was hot on her ear. His free hand wandered down her hip to her bear thigh. “Or is it because you know there’s no point in trying to seduce me since I could take anything I wanted from you anyway?” Geralt growled before sinking his lips onto her exposed neck in a long, forceful quick that became more and more of a bite with each passing second.

Bryn’s knees grew weak. She could feel a wetness blooming between her legs, not far from Geralt’s fingers. What was this man’s game - was he going to hurt her? Could she trust him enough to give in like she so badly wanted to?

Before she could contemplate these quandaries any further she felt both of Geralt’s strong hands grip her sides and toss roughly aside. Bryn hit the dirt hard, and when she recovered she looked up to see Geralt with one of his swords drawn, slicing the head off a ghoul that had emerged from behind the tree. The head dropped and rolled towards her, blood oozing from where it used to attach to a neck. Bryn’s stomach flopped and she quickly looked away as Geralt ran off further into the trees with his sword swinging.

Bryn took a moment to calm herself. She tried to control her breathing, but wasn’t having much luck. From somewhere behind her she heard Geralt’s horse begin to panic, and eventually take off. At the same time that she saw Geralt emerge from the trees in front of her, engaged with a bloodied beast, she heard a blood-curdling snarl from over her shoulder. Geralt locked eyes with her for a split second, just as Bryn clamped her fists shut and disappeared.

She appeared again on her feet several feet away from Geralt. Geralt ran his sword through the chest of the ghoul just as the other beast charged Bryn. She raised a gloved hand in defense and turned her head away, crying out in fear.

A rumble of thunder clapped in the sky. Bryn heard the beast fall silent. She looked up to see Geralt staring down at her in shock, both hands still on his sword. Bryn followed the line of her outstretched arm down to the dead ghoul, which had been thrown back about ten feet where it had collided with a tree.

Bryn dropped to the ground, leaning her back against the nearest tree, exhausted. She eyed Geralt as he moved from corpse to corpse, scavenging. He kept glancing to her as though there was some invisible part of her he was trying to locate.

Bryn shook her head. “You must have known I could -”

Geralt interrupted her. “I thought you were as powerful as a mere trickster and nothing more. But that…” He motioned to the mark the ghoul had left in the tree. “Do you know what you did?”

Bryn sighed. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“So you’re not trained,” said Geralt.

Bryn shot him a murderous look. “I’m as trained as I need to be.”

“But not as much as you could be.” Geralt smirked.

Bryn rolled her eyes and stood. “Where’s your horse. It has my bag.”

“I can call for it when I’m ready to.” Geralt paused and sheathed his sword. "You still owe me."

"There's coin in my bag. I'll pay you back for what I ate." Bryn hoped this would settle things, and she could forget about this whole mess of an encounter.

Geralt cocked an eyebrow. "And how will you pay for what you promised?"

Bryn turned on her heel and began to walk in the direction the horse had left in. She scowled when she heard the crunch of Geralt's boots following after her. He easily overtook her strides and stopped dead in front of her and made that sign in the air again. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?"

Bryn didn't bother fighting it this time. "Nowhere. I got caught running a con in the village and had to get out fast, so I ran here. Then I got lost. Now I want to leave."

Bryn seethed, hoping that at the least this honesty would cause Geralt to lose interest in her. Instead, Geralt laughed. A loud, booming laugh.

"You're lost in the woods," Geralt repeated, "and then you find a Witcher, not just any Witcher mind you, but one who wants to help, but you'd rather go on your own?" Geralt laughed again.

Bryn, steaming, took the opportunity to walk past him and continue to plod after the horse. From behind her she heard Geralt whistle for his horse.

"There's clearly no sense in stopping you", Geralt called after her "you seem to have made your decision, stupid as it may be. So I'll take the coin."

Almost out of nowhere the horse appeared. Bryn retrieved her bag and withdrew some coin for Geralt. He came around beside her and caught her arm in his grip as she held out a gloved hand for him to take his payment from. For a split second his brow furrowed as he stared down at the glove, and Bryn thought she might even have heard his necklace humming. Uncomfortable with his shift in focus, Bryn let a little of her robe slip off her shoulder to reveal more pale, soft skin. Geralt sighed, seemingly remembering his intentions. He looked up into dark, enchanting eyes.

"Are you sure I can't tempt you stay? Even just a little longer. I have nowhere to be currently and it would be a shame to waste a fine morning like this." Geralt took a small step forward, closing the distance between their bodies.

Bryn glanced to his yellow eyes, too unnerved by them to stare for long. She swallowed, feeling her heart rate accelerating. He had a hold over her, and she was fairly certain it wasn't magical. Which only made it more upsetting. Bryn stepped back.

"I have to go... North."

Geralt nodded, releasing her arm and taking his coin. He bucked his head to the left, "It's that way. Stay away from the dense areas of the forest, more beasts in there."

Bryn nodded, too proud to say thanks. Then she took off.

 


	4. The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> See trigger warning at end of chapter

In the tavern of an inn three days later, Bryn watched the rain outside pour down by the bucket. The few people that were still out on the streets were running for shelter, already drenched to the bone. She was grateful for the warmth in her cheeks from the ale she was drinking. All she needed now was to find someone who would pay for her meal and invite her to stay in their bed. She scanned the tavern.

Some miserable peasants hunkered over a few plates of meat, they looked foul smelling and dirty, and Bryn wanted nothing to do with them. Still, if things got desperate enough they’d make easy marks. A traveler would be more ideal, however. Someone with a room already booked in the inn, and no family in town. She thought the man seated at the bar looked like a scholar of some kind, and not from this town. Perhaps she’d try her luck with him.

Bryn stood from her seat, carrying her ale with her. She began to approach the bar, but before she could get very far the door to the inn burst open with a loud bang. Four rowdy soldiers came piling through the door, dripping wet and laughing loudly. They made a beeline for the table Bryn had just left, several of them eyeing her as they passed, one of them winking when she caught him staring too long. Soldiers were always the worst to deal with. All ego and energy, and you never ended up pleasuring just one of them. They were usually more willing to simply pay for your services, which did make the job easier.  Less prideful, but certainly easier.

Bryn picked the stool directly next to the scholar and sat perched right on the edge so that her robes fell off her legs just a little. She straightened her back to emphasize her breasts and finished off her ale. The scholar remained quiet but she did catch him side-eyeing her just slightly. Bryn grinned and passed the empty mug back to the innkeep.

“How do you find the ale here?” She asked the man while pretending to be preoccupied with scanning the menu posted above the bar.

“Good as anywhere I’ve been.” The man said gruffly, still dividing his attention between you and his plate of food.

“And the food?” she inquired.

“S’alright.” The man shrugged.

“What do you recommend?”

The man stopped eating and turned to face Bryn. “For a lady of your circumstance, likely whatever’s cheapest.”

She frowned, unsure how to interpret that. The man turned back to his plate, and before she could respond again he stated “Usually pairs well with some peace and quiet.”

Bryn huffed. What a miserable man. She turned and left the bar, fully aware that her advances were unwelcome.

Scanning the tavern she groaned inwardly. _Just peasants and soldiers, really? What a shit town._

Bryn didn’t even bother taking a seat, she just made a beeline for the door. She’d try to find a mark somewhere else. Thunder boomed across the sky as she stepped out into the rain. Bryn drew her hood up and ran into the street. _Hopefully somewhere close, too_.

 

Her boots splashing through the muddle puddles, Bryn ducked beside a nearby building to take shelter under its overhang. She really had not expected the rain to be this bad, it was nearly impossible to see through the down pour. She’d given up on stayig warm and dry, now just hoping to wait out the worst of the storm before continuing on to another inn. Tucking her arms against her chest, she allowed her head to fall back onto the stone of building behind her.

Through the sheets of rain she could barely make out the figure of someone riding by on horseback at a moderate pace, seemingly no care for the weather.  _ Some people are just insane _ . She sighed and watched the water from a nearby downspout pool into a puddle so large it was almost a lake. Had she been paying more attention she might have noticed the heavy footsteps headed her direction before it was too late.

“Betchya regret runnin’ away from us now, pretty thing.”

Bryn startled, looking up for the source of the voice. She was disgusted to see one of the soldiers from the bar standing in the mouth of the alleyway. It was the one who had winked at her, of course. 

“We mighta made for some nice company, you didn’t know,” the ugly man smirked.

Bryn seethed. Soaking wet and exhausted, she really was not in the mood for this. 

“You a mute?” the man demanded, stepping closer.

Bryn glared. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she knew she had to get past him and out of the alley to safety. 

The man kept moving, now less than a foot from Bryn’s body. “I’m in luck if you’re a mute. Means we won’t be disturbed.” 

Just as he reached out to grab at her waist, Bryn made her move. She spun out of his grasp, sidestepping his large body before he could catch up. On her way by, she grabbed nearby board of wood and swept it under his feet, knocking him to the ground. She turned to throw the board at his muddied back, and watched it collide with his armour. That’s when two heavy hands grabbed her shoulders from behind.

Bryn froze.

“Nice work, but we’d better get out of here,  _ now. _ ” 

Bryn spun on her heels, but was caught halfway through and lifted into the arms of her new assailant.

“Geralt.” She spat.

Geralt walked with her in his arms quickly to his waiting horse. He threw her up on the saddle and then climbed up behind her. 

“Let’s go, Roach,” Geralt commanded with a snap of the reins. “Passed that soldier’s buddies on my way to the inn, bragging about some whore they were about to corner. My guess is they weren’t far behind your muddy friend.”

“I’m not a whore.” Bryn responded.

Geralt chuckled. “Clearly not. Most whores I know actually follow through with their end of the bargain.”

“I didn’t rip that guy off!” Bryn protested. “He wasn’t… I…” Bryn started to shake, hot tears streaming down her face. She hadn't had a close call like that in years. She should've been more careful.

Geralt stayed silent behind her, bring Roach around through the town and up to the front of a nicer looking inn than the one she’d been at previously.

Bryn took the short time to gather herself, stopping her tears and calming her shakes. When Geralt stopped the horse and jumped off, Bryn ignored his waiting hand and jumped off as well. She led the way into the inn and marched right up to the innkeep.

“One room for myself. One with a bath, if possible.” 

The innkeep nodded. “It’s extra for the bath, but I can have it ready in 10 minutes.”

Bryn reached for her coin purse, but before she could Geralt was beside her sliding the more than the agreed fare across the counter. “Make it five, and we’d appreciate two mugs of ale. The lady is quite cold.”

Bryn wanted to protest, but she felt as though she had been soaked to the bone. 

“Right away.” The innkeep took the coin and left. 

 

Five minutes later they were following the innkeep up a flight of stairs and into the room. 

“I’ve left the keys on the table by the ales, and the bath is warm and ready.”

Bryn nodded. “Thank you.”

The innkeep closed the door behind him as he left. Geralt went straight for the ale, downing one and then reaching for the other. Bryn huffed.

“The bath is yours. You can’t have everything.” Geralt shrugged, before seating himself at the table. 

Bryn approached the round bathtub, sticking her fingers below the surface. She sighed at the pleasant temperature.  _ This will be heavenly. _

She took off her outer robe, then paused as she reached for the clasp of her dress. Geralt was sitting at the table with his ale, not staring at her but not avoiding her gaze either. 

“Are you going to at least give me a little privacy?” Bryn demanded. 

Geralt smirked and gestured to the bath. “Water’s getting cold.”

Bryn scowled. “You’re no better than soldiers.”

“I’ve been called a lot worse than that."

Geralt glanced down at his ale for a brief second, and Bryn took the opportunity to undo the clasp and step into the tub, allowing the soaked garment to pool on the floor. Once in the water she sank down deep until just her head was above the surface. Her eyes closed automatically, her body immediately warmed and loosened.

“Looks relaxing.”

Bryn’s eyes fluttered open, Geralt was watching her with something hidden in his eyes.

“You’re not allowed in here.” She warned.  


“Understood,” Geralt nodded, “I might use it after you’re done, if it’s still warm though.”

Bryn smirked. “Don’t count on it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: attempted rape


	5. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scroll to end for TW

Bryn awoke some time later, the water now cooled only enough to be uncomfortable. The room was quiet and dark, save for the light from the fire in the hearth. She slipped out of the bath shivered. It seemed like Geralt was gone, the mugs of ale sat emptied on the table but his boots and tunic were gone. On her way to the fire she scooped down to pick up her hooded robe. With the warmth of the flames drying the drips from Bryn’s skin, she slipped the robe over her shoulders and gathered its edges around her naked body. The soft licking flames of the fire captivated Bryn’s attention. They danced hypnotically, stretching up and bowing down, leaning over, joining together and falling apart…

A hand gripped Bryn’s waist from behind. 

_ “Betchya regret runnin’ away from us now, pretty thing.” _

Bryn grabbed at the hand, spun on her heel, and raised her right palm ahead of her, blood surging.

“Ach!” Geralt grunted in surprise, and yanked his arm out of Bryn’s grip. With his free hand he caught her raised arm, and felt its warmth and minute vibrations just as he had felt weeks ago in the woods.

Then he felt her whole body shiver and his eyes dipped lower. Her robe, dangling off her shoulders, had fallen fully open, revealing her entire pert naked body to him. Her breasts were round and small, sitting confidently on her soft frame. Her nipples were covered in goosebumps. His eyes dropped to her navel, but before they could follow any further Bryn tugged one side of her robe across her shivering body.   


“Geralt.”

Geralt’s eyes snapped to meet hers.

“My hand.”

Geralt looked to where he was still clutching Bryn’s arm and growled, releasing his grasp. Bryn immediately reached for her robe, tucking it around herself completely. She turned away from Geralt and took a seat on the edge of the bath. 

The tips of her ears burned, and there was a chill dampness arising from the bathwater. She watched Geralt pace to the adjacent wall and glance out a small window. Her heart skipped when he without warning removed his tunic, revealing a back marred with messy scars. She glanced down, now even more uncomfortable, and watched as he stepped out of his boots, his bare feet red and raw. 

Bryn pulled her robe tighter around herself.

“Geralt, I-”

“What are you?” Geralt interrupted, spinning to face her.

Bryn clamped her mouth shut and avoided his accusatory gaze.

His feet marched closer to her until he was so close she felt she had to look at him.

Geralt narrowed his golden eyes, scanning her face for tells. Bryn tugged at her robe again, pulling it even tighter. Geralt stepped so close his torso towered over her. Methodically, he reached for her arm, resting his hand on it, breathing in slowly through the nose. 

Bryn squirmed against the side of the tub. 

“You’re nervous,” Geralt did not back away.

“I’m undressed.” Bryn replied meekly.

“No.” Geralt frowned. “You’re nervous all the time. Because you’re not what you try to be.”

Bryn swallowed. Her heart was beating out of her chest. 

“What am I trying to be?” She heard herself asking. 

“Someone normal.” Geralt retorted. “A whore.”

His hand left her arm as he took a step back, now seemingly disinterested.

Bryn caught his hand as it left, rising to her feet. She pulled him towards her body, letting her robe fall open, and pressing her soft body against his stiff torso. 

Her lips inches away from his, his pupils blown wide with lust, she whispered “I am what I say I am. And I don’t think you have any problems with that.”

Geralt closed the gap, his mouth crashing against hers greedily. She wrapped her arms around his waist, running her hands up and down his torn up back, all the way down to his ass. He grunted in response and rolled his hips against hers. Bryn allowed him control of her mouth, her body. He groped one breast in a thick calloused hand while using the other to untie the slipknot of her robe. The fabric cascaded to the floor, pooling around their feet. 

Geralt growled, primal and hungry. Reaching around to grope her ass, he felt the soft smooth skin against his calluses and noted how she was grinding against his thigh in response. Then he had her up in the air, her legs wrapped around his hips, and Bryn sighed as she pulled herself tight against him. As he moved his mouth to her pale neck he could feel her bare body squirming against his torso. He could smell her thick arousal and he wanted to devour it. 

Turning, he moved them towards the bed and dropped them on top of it. With the length of her small soft body spread out beneath him, Geralt reached to his pants to loosen the ties. He pressed his free hand against her stomach and then smoothed it upwards, sliding over her pert breasts, pushing into her neck as she caught a shocked breath, and finally tracing upwards towards her outstretched arms. He caught her wrists in one hand and pushed them deep into the bed, while spreading his legs over hers, pinning her fully underneath him. 

Bryn looked up at him then, for a short moment, with just the smallest hint of fear in her eyes. Geralt shifted his weight slightly, and leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips. 

“Are you what you say you are, whore?” He grunted, pausing just above her mouth. 

Bryn squirmed underneath him, suddenly needing more friction and relief than Geralt was willing to indulge her. 

Geralt smirked, then bent his head and took a breast in his mouth, sucking and nipping at it until Bryn squeaked in protest. Geralt lifted his mouth and moved immediately to the other breast, latching on and shaking it in his bite. Bryn cried out and seized, but Geralt stuck a knee between her legs so she couldn’t close them. 

“Geralt!” Bryn gasped when he finally released her and straightened up, towering over her on the bed. 

“Do you want me to stop, whore?” Geralt questioned.

His cat eyes bore into hers and Bryn had to look away to avoid their intensity. 

Geralt grabbed her by the thighs and hoisted her towards him, mounting her legs over his and angling her pussy up towards him on full display. 

“Because I don’t think you do.” Geralt added, flicking his eyes to Bryn’s dripping wet cunt. 

Geralt ran a finger up her inner thigh. “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” 

Bryn looked at him nervously. 

“But tell me you want more and you’ll get more.” 

Geralt smoothed his fingers overtop of her pussy, covering them in her sex. 

“I’ll take this.” Geralt slipped a finger into her cunt. “And I’ll take you.” Geralt added another finger and began pumping them torturously slowly. “I’ll take all of you.” Geralt laid his thumb against her clit and began making slow, wide circles. 

“Geralt!” Bryn’s hops bucked.

“Should I stop?”

“No!” Bryn began thrusting against Geralt’s fingers. “Please.” 

“Please what?” Geralt asked.

Bryn began pushing even harder, fucking herself on him. 

Geralt smirked and removed his fingers. “Please what, whore?”

Bryn’s cheeks flushed, and she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Please…” she moaned, “Please… take me Geralt.”

Geralt wasted no time. In one movement he flipped Bryn over and yanked her ass up towards his crotch. Pulling his hard cock from his pants he shoved into her so fast she had no time to react. Her walls were tight around him, throbbing. His pace was relentless and Bryn was gripping the mattress just to stay in place. 

Geralt thrusted once, twice, and then a third time, finding her sweet spot and pounding it. Bryn cried out loudly, sobbing with pleasure. She reached underneath herself to rub at her clit, but Geralt wouldn’t let her, instead shoving her face and shoulders deeper into the mattress.

“A good whore comes when they’re told,” he growled.

“Yes Geralt,” Bryn moaned.

When Geralt had had his fill of her from behind, he tossed her over onto her back, pinning her arms down again and beginning a slow, steady rhythm of deep thrusts. 

“I can last all night,” he boasted as her mouth opened in a distinct “O” at the pleasure of it all. “Someone of your experience should be able to as well, yeah?”

Bryn whimpered. “What do you want?”

“Who are you?” Geralt demanded.

Bryn averted his gaze, ignoring the question until Geralt suddenly withdrew from her. She gasped, and tried to wiggle herself closer, to put him back in line with her entrance, but saw quickly how he was avoiding her attempts.

“Tell me who you are, really. Cause you’re not a whore, at least not a professional one, but you’re more than happy to let people think you are.”

Bryn squirmed. Geralt began snaking his hand all over her body, slowly, teasing every inch.

“What do you do once a man has you in his chambers? Hm? Do you trick him into tying himself up so you can ransack his belongings? Remind him that sending anyone after you means he has to confess to hiring a prostitute?”

Geralt’s hand found its way lower, smoothing out her lower belly but never dipping quite deep enough.

“Do you even bother with that? Or do you just knock them out and rob them blind, then run for the next safe place?”

Bryn shoved her pelvis upwards, catching his fingers on her lips. She grinned. “I don’t have to.”

Geralt cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t remove his fingers.

“A few key hallucinogenic spells take care of the worst of it. The rest, well, men will believe anything you say if you look scared enough when you say it.”

“But you’re not a sorceress,” Geralt stated, resting above her.

“No, I’m just a girl who knows a few tricks.” Bryn smiled. Then she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close, sliding herself overtop his dripping cock.

Geralt’s eyes burned with spite immediately. He pinned her down once more, this time wrapping a hand around her neck. He pumped in and out of her furiously with no regard for her own pleasures. Bryn could feel her mind beginning to grow fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and she let her trance be overcome with the sensation of the witcher pounding her into the mattress. Her cunt began to ache with raw friction, and she fought desperately to find release.  


Just before her vision began blurring, Geralt released her throat and immediately began stroking her clit in time with his thrusts. With a great intake of air, Bryn gasped and came undone. Waves of pleasure crashed over her body, spreading out from her mound and down to her toes. She arched off the bed and clenched around Geralt’s cock buried balls deep inside her. He came in response with a roar, spilling his seed deep inside her and pumping himself dry. Finally he let go, and Bryn watched his whole body relax above her as he leaned back, watching his cream pour out of her pink, messy cunt. Bryn panted, aching and empty, the final tremors of arousal making their way across her skin.  


“You owe me an explanation,” he said, when he finally regained his composure.

“And you owe me another warm bath,” countered Bryn.

Without warning Geralt scooped her petite body into his arms and carried her away from the bed, setting her down in the lukewarm tub. Then he filled a pot with water and mounted it over the fire to boil. Bryn watched as he stripped the rest of his clothes off, admiring his ass and scarred, muscular back. When Geralt stepped into the tub to join her, he sat down and pulled her gently onto his lap.

Bryn curled her arms around his neck and listened to his heart beating as he placed soft kisses to her neck where light bruises were already beginning to show.

“You’re going to have to wear a hood for a few days,” he surmised, running warm water down her back.

Bryn looked up at him. “And why should you care about that?”

A deep sincerity shone in his eyes, and Bryn found it hard to look away.

“I plan on being with you for a while longer. I can’t have people thinking I’m treating you cruelly, I’ll never be trusted.”

Bryn smirked and turned, mounting herself on his hips. “I like it when you treat me cruelly.”

Geralt looked her dead in the eyes. Below surface, his cock twitched, already recovering and ready for another round. “I noticed.”

Bryn rolled her hips, preparing herself for a magical second round afforded by his infamous withcer stamina. Just then, Geralt slipped her off his lap, stood up, and left the tub. He pulled the pot off the fire and poured the boiling water into the tub. Instead of getting back in, Geralt retrieved a towel for himself and began drying off. 

“If you want to be treated like that again, you’ll have to earn it. I need some answers.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: rough sex, dom/sub, dubcon, choking, degrading language


End file.
